Post by Ink & Soul ✒️✨ (@inkandsoul)

Post 5)

The boy’s corner was a chaotic masterpiece of scattered books and open cartons. He dug through a pile and produced a packet of Omo.
“Here,” the boy said, handing it over. “It works fast.”
Chris washed the shirt in the communal sinks, the silence between them softening. When he returned to change, the boy was sitting on his bunk, his half-eaten meal in front of him.
“You should help me finish this,” the boy said. “It’s too much for one person, and I’d feel better about the shirt
©C.Y.A

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